


There were okay days

by ScriptaManent



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, Healing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: There were awful days, there were days off, and there were okay days. It seemed that the okay days were starting to outnumber the bad ones, but Andrew would never allow himself to think about it. He was used to living alone, by now, away from the Foxes' noisy daily routine... And still, Neil always found a way to sneak into his life unannounced.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 9
Kudos: 140





	There were okay days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Senren_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senren_B/gifts).



Most people who have a couch have a TV screen in front of it. Yet, Andrew wasn’t like most people, and he preferred the all-relative calm of his building to a place filled with noises. He could hear every sound that echoed in the nearby flats, from a mother scolding her kids to the grandma to his right calling for help after she fell in her bathroom – it had happened a few times already. Fortunately, the ambulance had received anonymous calls every time and had learnt to trust their mysterious informer, even though he kept hanging up on them after a few minutes.

Moreover, Andrew hadn’t watched TV in years, and the fact there wasn’t a grumpy Exy champion staring at a screen and criticizing every match he saw was a blissful change in his life.

Not that Andrew felt anything near bliss, but he had started to learn to appreciate such trivial things.

More importantly, Andrew’s flat was conveniently placed at the top floor of the building, the second one. The absence of a lift and the configuration of the place allowed him to hear anyone who walked in the corridor. He had pushed most of the furniture against the walls as soon as he had moved in and had put the desk in front of the window, reorganizing the space so that there was no way anyone would be able to take him by surprise. He was ready to welcome anyone attempting to break in. There were some days he even hoped for someone to come – usually these were his bad days.

Lying on the sofa, one arm blocking the light from his eyes, Andrew looked like he was sleeping. He hadn’t bothered going out on that day, there was no practise planned and he had enough food for the next two weeks at least. The only thing he fancied was a full pint of hot chocolate and amaretto but he wasn’t going to get up for that.

A door slammed somewhere in the building. In another flat, a baby screamed like a fire alarm. A couple argued in the street; the woman slapped her boyfriend and walked away, her high heels clapping on the pavement with every angry step she took.

Footsteps.

Andrew’s eyes opened wide and he jumped to his feet, his fingers sliding under his arm bands and unsheathing a thin knife. He knew each of his blades like his own body – their weight, their sharpness, the way they felt when pressed against flesh…

He locked his gaze on the door, his breath slow and controlled. This wasn’t one of the neighbours. The footsteps stopped in front of his door and Andrew stepped closer, toying with the handle of his knife, sliding his thumb against the edge.

His eyes narrowed when the stranger knocked on the door but his shoulders dropped as soon as he recognized the particular combination.

“What the hell are you doing here, Josten?” he grunted, opening the door just enough to lean against the frame.

There he was, Neil, with his stupid grin, his ever grey duffle bag on his shoulder, an orange keychain shaped as a fox hanging from the zipper.

“Next season isn’t starting until next month,” the current captain of the Palmetto State Foxes shrugged, extending his arm to push the door, far enough from Andrew not to touch him.

Andrew eyed him as he crossed the door and dropped his bag on the floor as if he owned the place. Well, it wasn’t far from the truth: Neil had his own set of keys. He just never used it because he knew Andrew would be triggered if someone entered his place without him knowing.

“Nobody ever taught you to call before you visit someone,” the goalie pointed out, slamming the door shut and joining Neil on the couch.

Neil took a drink out of his bag and shoved it into Andrew’s hands, the corners of his lips curving upward when his boyfriend’s eyes lit up at the first sip.

“My phone’s dead.”

“Liar.”

Andrew sent him a dark look that Neil pretended not to see. Of course Andrew hated surprises, but Neil’s always were less annoying than expected. A surprise visit during a period they barely had any time to talk to each other, a gift in the mail with Neil’s crappy handwriting all over the paper, a stupid pair of orange socks that Andrew swore he would never wear but put on anyway because they were warmer than everything else he owned, the perfect drink he craved for but didn’t want to go out to buy… Neil knew Andrew better than he probably knew himself.

Sometimes it was scary to realise. Most of the time, it was oddly comforting, like finding a smoking bathtub waiting for you after a long and exhausting day.

Andrew didn’t need to glance to know the bathtub was staring at him again.

“How was your day?” Neil asked.

He didn’t try to sound casual, like Nicky used to. There was no worry in his voice like in Bee’s whenever she let her guard down. Neil’s questions were blunt. There were times he faltered but he never backed off.

Andrew took a minute to think about it. “Boring,” he eventually answered.

It wasn’t an awful day, else he would have sent Neil home without a second thought – and Neil would have gone back to Fox Tower without protest. It wasn’t a day off either, because he sat next to Neil and could feel the warmth radiating from his body without feeling sick.

No, it was an okay day, and it was all Neil wanted to know. Andrew daren’t think okay days were starting to outnumber bad ones, he had never been an optimistic kind of guy, but the certitude had somehow settled in the back of his mind.

Even Neil was less on edge than before. In five years with the Foxes, Neil had learnt how to smile and Andrew had learnt how to accept it. Of course Neil was still having rough days, especially since all his formers teammates had left and he had to manage the new recruits.

Yet, every time he was going to complain, he was reminded of how much worse it had been when he had first stepped into the Foxes’ headquarters. Wymack snapped, highlighting the mess Neil had caused on his first year – and how the situation had turned into the best year of his life. Besides, could anybody possibly be worse to handle than Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard? Neil doubted it.

He remained close to both of them, though. Even though his relationship with Kevin mostly consisted in taunting each other and talking about Exy.

Andrew sucked the last drops of his chocolate drink noisily and threw the empty goblet onto the coffee table. It rolled to the edge and fell to the floor with a _thump_.

He eventually turned to Neil, none of them caring about throwing the trash away, and flicked a glance at his duffle bag.

“Do we need to buy more food?” Neil asked, getting up and opening the cupboards in the nearby kitchen before Andrew could answer.

He bumped into a chair on his way and shoved it under the table with an oath and a glare over his shoulder. Andrew followed him and stood in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the scene.

The fridge was full, so were most of the cupboards. Only the top shelves were empty, for Andrew couldn’t reach them and didn’t bother to climb on a chair every time he wanted a snack. Not that Neil could reach higher anyway. In the corner, a whole piece of furniture was dedicated to alcohol and sweets. It was the only one with obvious storage space, the only one with opened boxes and that was dotted with crumbs.

“How long?” Andrew asked out of the blue, his eyes on Neil’s back.

The other turned around and shrugged. “Until you tell me to leave.”

Andrew’s eyes stayed on Neil as he closed the distance between them, studying his expression, scanning for the tiniest hint of a twitch, but Neil remained still, waiting for Andrew to make the first move.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked.

Five years, and he still asked.

“Yes.”

Five years, and the answer had never changed.

Five years, and Neil still had this stupid look in his eyes whenever he looked at Andrew, like he was some kind of miracle. There were times it occurred to Andrew he would probably have looked at Neil all the same, had he been able to be fully functional. After all, there were still times he wondered if he hadn’t dreamt Neil up at all, like some kind of Pygmalion. Except his creation hadn’t been a perfect human being. It had been a broken boy with a neon bright target pinned to his back, and somehow it was way less boring and way less cheesy.

He had saved Neil as much as Neil had saved him, they had earned their trust, it wasn’t just some kind of mythical bullshit.

Not that Andrew would ever acknowledge the thought anyway.

As soon as Andrew’s lips touched Neil’s, he lost control over his own mind. He placed Neil’s hand on his neck, the other on his waist, and kissed him rougher when he felt Neil grin under his mouth. Oh, he would wipe this grin off his face, he knew exactly how to. Andrew would lose himself somewhere along the line, but Neil was all that mattered on that instant. All that he _cared_ about. This he allowed himself to think.

 _“Until you tell me to leave,”_ Neil had said.

He would stay until Andrew ordered him to leave, but it was more likely he would have to leave for the Foxes before that would happen.

They didn’t say “I love you”, at least they hadn’t yet, because Andrew was scared of these words and Neil barely gave them any meaning either. Yet, they said “Stay”, even though most of the time they didn’t use words for that. It was in the stolen looks, in the kisses, in the clothes Neil purposely left at Andrew’s flat and in the hot chocolates he brought him. It was in the keys that tinkled in Neil’s pocket when Andrew pulled him closer and in the way his hand searched for Neil when all was dark and Andrew jolted awake after another nightmare. These nightmares had changed, too. Half of them were now about losing Neil. These ones he never got used to.

Nonetheless, whether the two of them were in the same room or states apart, they didn’t need to speak. They knew each other’s mind too well for that.

Yet, for this time only, the word escaped Andrew’s lips, just like it had years ago, between two kisses and highlighted by a stolen glance.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t a “Stay _with me_ ” yet but it was the only meaning it had and it bore all its weight.

Neil’s grin was smug when he gazed back at his boyfriend.

“Always.”

It took half a second for Andrew to make the grin disappear.


End file.
